[1866:] Don't take it badly. Because if I am bad, then he
told the truth. And if I am good, and he said bad things about me, then place
him in the custody of the Lord: 'Ghalib, don’t take it badly, if enemies speak
badly about you / is there anyone at all whom everyone would call good?' (282)
==Urdu text: Khaliq Anjum vol. 2, p. 568; in the letter, Ghalib (probably deliberately) altered the first line to ;Gaalib buraa nah maan jo dushman buraa kahe;N .
==another trans: Daud Rahbar, pp. 244-455

He says, oh Ghalib, if the Preacher considers you a rakish
one and vilifies you, then why do you take it amiss? There won't be any man
in the world whom the whole age will call good. The custom of the age is that
if ten men call someone good, then one man also calls him bad. (315)

Ghalib, if the Preacher vilifies you, then why do you take
it amiss? There's no one such that everyone calls him good. That is, except
for the Preacher everyone else calls you good. (473)

Faruqi:

Another point is that since in the world there's no one
such that everyone would call him good, not everybody calls the Preacher good
either. Some people vilify the Preacher. From this it also follows that the
man whom not everybody calls good-- if he would vilify someone else, then
how reliable are his words? (1989: 362) [2006: 390]

FWP:

Faruqi makes an enjoyable point about the implications of
the second line: if there's nobody whom everybody calls good, then it follows
that the Preacher isn't such a person either-- so how bothered should one
be about his opinion?

The commentators, including Faruqi, read the second line
as if there were a kyaa in front of it, to mark it as
a yes-or-no question-- a rhetorical question, of course, in this case (2a).
That's a perfectly satisfactory thing to do. But why should we entirely ignore the
straightforward grammar of the line, which is that of a flat factual statement
(2b)? Why should we ever settle for only one meaning, when the verse clearly
offers us two?

And the second meaning is piquant in its own way. It looks
to be religious, but not explicitly so. Doesn't it seem to suggest that the
speaker is comforting himself with thoughts of the Prophet or the members
of his family, such as Hazrat Ali? The contrast with the Preacher in the first
line is thus made, on this reading, highly meaningful: the Preacher may condemn
me, but there's someone else, someone far higher and better, who is my refuge
and who will not join him in his vilification. On this reading, we're back to the battle between
the 'external' religion of (hypocritical) appearance, and the 'internal' religion
of mystical intoxication, that is so deeply part of the terrain of the ghazal. This possible second meaning is certainly a subordinate one; it's not rhetorically foregrounded the way the primary meaning is. But still, it seems worth mentioning.